


I Take Comfort With You

by Persiflage



Series: Cousy Fest 2k17 [11]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort Food, Cousy Fest 2k17, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Nightmares, Older Man/Younger Woman, Phil Coulson's Prosthetic Hand, Pre-Season/Series 03, Slow Build, midnight snacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 02:31:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10526997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Post S2 canon divergence: Both suffering from nightmares and insomnia, Coulson and Daisy keep bumping into each other to share their sleeplessness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus fic written for the Cousy Fest 2k17 for the Day 1 prompts of 'Comfort food' and 'Nightmares'.

"Here," Coulson says softly, and sets a plate containing an amazing looking sandwich down in front of Daisy.

"What's this?" she asks, and peels back the top slice to peer at the extensive fillings: bacon, lettuce, tomato, and – "Is that egg mayo?" 

He nods, his expression a mixture of amused and concerned – as if he's not sure she'll like it. "Is that okay?"

She shrugs. "Don't know until I taste it." She sets the top slice down, then picks it up in both hands, because it's a seriously huge sandwich. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He briefly touches her shoulder with the tips of his fingers, then moves around the table to sit opposite her with his mug of camomile tea. "We both understand bad nights."

She nods around a mouthful of sandwich, then her eyes go wide as all the flavours of the fillings hit her at once. She raises her eyebrows at him, trying to signal her amazement, and he smirks, clearly getting it, and clearly amused by having surprised her with his amazing BLT and egg combo.

Eventually she finishes chewing and swallowing, then says, "Wow Phil!" She blushes as she realises she's called him 'Phil' out loud, but he gets this cute smile on his face, then nods.

"You can call me Phil," he tells her. "I – I'd like that." He blushes a bit, too, and she thinks that makes him look even cuter. Then she wonders when she started actively thinking of him as cute.

"Okay."

He sits with her, slowly sipping his camomile tea and he listens intently as she talks quietly about her recurrent nightmare: her mother's attempt to steal her life force, and Cal's intervention to kill the woman he'd loved so much he once put her back together and brought her back from the dead. 

They've been doing this for a few weeks now – meeting in the kitchen of the Playground in the dead of night, one of them suffering from a nightmare, the other simply not sleeping, and finding a measure of comfort in sharing each other's sleepless company. This is the first time Phil has made her a sandwich though – they usually just drink something uncaffeinated while they settle. She's reminded of the grilled cheese sandwich he made her a few months ago, and she decides he's very good at comfort food – which matters far more to her than fancy cooking.

She resolves, as she finishes her sandwich and they head towards their bunks to shower and dress for the day ahead, that she'll give him some comfort food next time he's the one with the nightmare. (It strikes her as slightly weird that they never seem to have a nightmare the same night – on nights when he's had one, she's just not sleeping at all, and the reverse seems to be true for him.)

"See you later, Phil," she says and he smirks, nods, then heads in the direction of his quarters.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

"Hey Phil."

Daisy doesn't mean to startle Phil, but he clearly didn't hear her approaching because he flinches at her soft greeting, splashing about the hot water he was pouring into his mug, which makes him bite back a yelp as it nearly hits his bare feet. She quickly takes the kettle from him and sets it on the stove, then grabs a cloth to mop up the spillage.

"You don't have to do that," he says, sounding a bit cross, and she looks up at him from where she's bending forward to dry the water that spilled down the front of the cabinet.

"I made you spill it," she says with a shrug. "Seems only fair I clean it up."

"I'm perfectly capable – " he begins, almost snarling, then his eyes go wide and he looks absolutely appalled. He puts the mug down blindly she thinks, and is glad when it lands safely on the counter.

"God, Skye, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bite your head off. I – " She's not sure what her face is doing, but he cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, then says, "Dammit. I'm sorry, Daisy. I – God, I'm a mess."

"That's what lack of sleep'll do for you," she tells him gently, tossing the cloth into the sink, then reaching for him. She clasps both his wrists, not flinching from the prosthetic, and guides him towards the table. "Sit down, and I'll finish clearing up, then make your tea. And how about a snack?"

"I – yeah, okay. Thank you." He pulls a face. "Sorry, I don't mean to sound ungracious."

She hooks the nearest chair with her foot and drags it close, then sits in it, facing him, her knees between his. "Hey, Phil, it's okay," she says as reassuringly as she can. "I get it. I'm also cranky from sleeping badly and well – all that other stuff." She gestures vaguely, meaning the mysterious black ops team that keeps arriving before them and taking away the newly transformed Inhumans. "Don't beat yourself up over it, okay?" She clasps his wrists, squeezing them, then leans in and presses her lips to his forehead. "Just sit there."

He twists his arms to take her wrists in his hands (and of course she notices how extra careful he is about touching her with the prosthetic). "Thank you," he says with a quiet yet intense sincerity. "I couldn't have got through the last couple of months without you, you know."

"Well likewise, Phil," she says. She kisses his cheek this time, then pulls away. She can feel his eyes on her back as she finishes clearing up the spilled water, then sets about re-heating the water for his tea and assembling a snack for them to share. It's nothing as complicated as one of his amazing sandwiches because she's not awake enough for that kind of thing at 1am, but she digs in the cabinets and uncovers a pack of Little Debbies, plus another pack of glazed donuts. Then she makes his tea and pours herself a glass of milk (for the calcium for her bones), before setting everything on the table and seating herself in the same chair as before.

"Thank you," he says softly and he wraps his arm around her shoulders and gently pulls her in to place his lips at her temple. "You're a good friend."

"Gotta keep the Director sweet," she teases, and is surprised by how pained he looks. "What?"

"At times like this, could you just think of me as your friend Phil, not the Director?" He looks awkward about asking, she thinks, and she smiles.

"Maybe I can always think of you as my friend Phil?" she suggests, and his face lights up like a little boy on Christmas day. She doesn't really think about what she's doing, she just clasps his forearm, then leans in and kisses him on the mouth. It's fairly chaste, but it's also very intentional.

"Daisy," he whispers, then kisses her back, rather less chastely. 

She moans softly because Phil Coulson is an excellent kisser – which she'd pretty much figured out – and they spend several minutes basically making out. 

Eventually they have to pull apart to get their breath back, and she notices that Phil looks almost as dazed as she feels. "You okay?" she asks anxiously, wondering if she's gone too far – he might want to just be her friend, but he is the Director still.

"Very okay," he whispers, and reels her in for another kiss.

When they pull apart the second time she can feel something unfamiliar in his vibrations – and she wouldn't know what it was except that when she glances down, biting her bottom lip, she notices that he's pretty clearly aroused.

"Is that – " she blurts out, then claps her hand over her mouth.

Phil chuckles, obviously delighted. "Yes, Daisy, that's because of kissing you. How do you expect a man to react when he gets to kiss a gorgeous girl – I mean, young woman?"

She blushes, and he smirks, clearly amused by her reactions, and she growls in the back of her throat, then climbs onto his lap, and he grunts as she presses her body against his: she doesn't know if he can feel how hard her nipples are through the thin t-shirt he's wearing and the tank she's got on, but she suspects he might. His left hand awkwardly clasps her hip while his right slides up under her tank to cup her right shoulder blade as he kisses her again. Then again, then some more.

"I think we should take this somewhere less public and more comfortable," he suggests after the third kiss. 

"I think that's an excellent plan," she says firmly. 

They disentangle themselves and Daisy grabs her milk and the sugary goodies, which makes Phil lift an eyebrow before he smirks and picks up the Grumpy cat mug of tea. "You're right," he says, "we shouldn't let this go to waste."

"Besides," Daisy points out, "if we leave these lying around, Hunter will be all over them."

Phil chuckles quietly, then gestures with his free hand for her to precede him, and they head along the quiet, dark hallway.

"Your room or mine?" she asks softly.

"Mine," he says immediately. "More privacy, and a bigger bed." 

She half turns to look over her shoulder at him, and isn't surprised by his cocky smirk. "Good call."

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

Once in Coulson's quarters, they settle on his bed and eat a couple of cakes apiece, and he drinks his tea, while Daisy swallows her milk. She takes the plate, which isn't yet empty, his mug and her glass over to the corner table, then points at the door to his ensuite. 

"I'm just gonna – "

"Help yourself," he tells her, and she nods, then hurries into his bathroom. She's just coming out again when she almost walks into him in the doorway, and he clasps her shoulders to stop her smacking into his chest. She wouldn't mind, though, she thinks – he's got a nice chest – very broad and well muscled, like his arms.

"Sorry," he says. "I just – I was going to clean my teeth, and I thought you might want to do the same."

"I – uh – yeah, but I don't have my brush."

He smiles. "I've got a spare."

"Really, Phil? Is there something you want to tell me?" she teases, and he blushes charmingly. 

"I bought a new one and haven't used it yet," he says, and steers her back into the bathroom, then reaches past her, his left hand still lightly clasping her shoulder, to take a packaged toothbrush from the cabinet above the sink. He brandishes it at her, and she takes it from him, chuckling quietly.

"I always somehow forget you're a dork," she tells him.

He pouts, but doesn't argue with her assessment, and she snorts, then bumps his hip with hers as she frees the toothbrush from its packaging. 

"Thanks, Phil."

"Anytime." It apparently doesn't occur to either of them that cleaning their teeth simultaneously while sharing the same handwash basin should seem awkward. 

Once she's finished, she steps back into his room while he finishes up, then he comes back into the room, and now he looks a little awkward. 

"What's up, Phil?" she asks, stepping into his personal space and slinging her arms loosely around his neck.

"I don't want you to feel pressured into sleeping with me," he says, blushing a little. "I'm still, technically, your boss."

"Hey, I kissed you first, remember?"

"I know, but – "

"Phil, it's fine. Stop worrying about it." She manoeuvres her hand inside the waistband of his sweatpants and clasps his cock, which is still half-hard, and he groans, clasps her head (very carefully with his left hand, she notes) and kisses her. She kisses him back eagerly while simultaneously stroking his cock, enjoying the sensation of it thickening in her hand until he's fully hard. Then she pulls away from him and quickly tugs his sweatpants down.

"Fuck, Phil," she whispers, slightly shocked by how big he is – somehow he hadn't felt as big when she couldn't see his cock, but now it's exposed, it looks long and thick, and she presses her thighs together as a jolt of desire hits her hard.

He wraps his right hand around her wrist and she lets go of him, suddenly realising it might be too much stimulation right now. "My turn," he whispers against her ear, then kisses just below the lobe as he slips his hand inside her sweatpants and slides his middle finger down the length of her sex.

"Okay?" he asks when she gasps, and she mumbles an agreement, then moans when he carefully pushes his middle finger inside her slick heat. He continues kissing her as he fingers her, then he pauses and pushes his index inside her as well, and she feels her knees go weak with pleasure as he resumes fingerfucking her. She comes quickly, and hard, and has to cling to his arms to keep herself upright.

"Oh god, Phil," she gasps when he eases his fingers free. "That – That was – Wow!" He smirks, as well he might she thinks remotely. "I've never had such an intense orgasm from being fingered before."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," he murmurs, and lifts his hand, clearly intending to suck his fingers clean, and she grabs his wrist and tugs it towards his own mouth. He looks startled for a moment, then smirks when she wraps her tongue around his fingers and sucks.

"Fuck, Daisy." It's his turn for the muttered imprecation, and she releases his fingers, then gestures at his bed. 

"Shall we?"

"Yes." 

They step across to the bed and he slips her tank off, then cups her left breast in his right hand. She grabs his left wrist and brings the prosthetic up to her other breast and he frowns. 

"I don't think I should," he tells her. "I don't have such good control of this one."

She gives him a quick peck on the lips. "It's okay, Phil," she says softly. "I trust you not to hurt me."

He swallows, the sound loud in the quiet room, then gives a jerky nod, before allowing her to bring his hand to her breast. He's careful about thumbing her already stiff nipples, and she reaches between their bodies to cup his balls, eliciting a loud moan from him. 

She's not entirely sure how they manage to get themselves onto his bed, but they do, then he kneels over her, his very hard cock tight against his belly, and he opens the drawer in the nightstand. She lifts an eyebrow when he pulls out a pack of condoms, but she doesn't tease him about them: she doesn't care why he's got them, she's just glad he has. She knows she can trust him and knows that he knows he can trust her, but she understands why he still wants to use one.

He sinks into her slowly, and they both moan loudly as he fills her, muttering about her being so tight and wet, while she thinks that he feels even bigger once his cock's inside her than it did when it was in her hand.

Once he's buried all the way inside her, he lowers his head and kisses her, teasing her bottom lip with nips and sucks, and she can't help moaning into his mouth as she feels her sex throb around his cock. He begins to thrust, initially moving maddeningly slowly, although she soon realises that she likes his slow thrusts as he gazes down at her, his blue eyes seeming to well with emotion. She realises no one's ever looked at her like that before, and she feels a bit overwhelmed by his intensity, but it's nice too, because he makes her feel special in this as he has in so many other things since they came into each other's lives.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

Daisy wakes about five hours later, her body wrapped around Phil's, and she realises that she's had the best few hours sleep since everything that went down on the _Iliad_. 

_If I'd realised sex with Phil was going to be so good for my sleep issues, I'd have done this sooner,_ she thinks with a smirk.

She feels him stirring and wonders if she should pull away from him, if she's being too clingy, but his right arm tightens around her, then he opens his eyes and gives her the most ridiculous, slow, sexy smile that anyone's ever sent her way, and she reckons that, in May's continuing absence, she might skip the gym this morning, and get her morning exercise here in Phil's bed.

"Morning, gorgeous," he whispers, then presses his lips to the side of her neck, and she feels a surge of desire that makes her push him over onto his back so she can straddle his body. His eyes go wide, but she can tell he likes her assertiveness.

"Morning Phil," she says as she curls her hand around his morning erection.

He smirks. "As a cure for nightmares, you're the best," he tells her, and she giggles.

"Likewise," she tells him, then reaches for the packet of condoms he'd left out before, and his smirk turns into a full blown grin.

"You can come again," he tells her as she rolls one down his shaft.

"I plan to," she tells him, and he snorts as he realises that's a double entendre. "You too."

She grins, then lifts herself up and together they guide his cock into her, and she thinks that a day that starts like this can't be half bad.


End file.
